


i vanish into the dark and rise above my station

by loonylu



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Asthma, Canonical Child Abuse, Child Neglect, F/F, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, He and Nureyev have a lot to talk about, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Juno and Vespa are workin through some stuff separately and can recognize each other's ptsd, Juno is trying ok, M/M, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Vaccinations, medical neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 04:35:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18328730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonylu/pseuds/loonylu
Summary: The first few hours are the hardest. A nightmare, a conversation, a checkup, and taking the time to adjust to new circumstances.





	i vanish into the dark and rise above my station

**Author's Note:**

> guess i'm locked into writing trauma recovery stuff in this fandom now!

Of course Juno has a nightmare his first night aboard the ship. His quarters are tiny, just a bunk and a locker, everything metal and cold and his blanket is thin. Mars is warm, and space is cold, and this is the first time Juno has ever even been off Mars and he’s afraid.

 

The nightmare is horrifying, but he’s had horrifying nightmares for decades. His brain decides to throw the memories of Jack Takano in his face, and Juno feels tiny and dirty, and Nureyev is just standing there watching Jack touch him and he is laughing cruelly and Juno can’t understand if he’s four or forty as Jack’s breathing in his ear gets more erratic. Then he wakes up with a gasping sob.

 

Fuck. He drags a hand down his face, noting the tears soaking his pillow. He hasn’t had a nightmare that bad since the Theia Spectrum came out of his head. He sits up, brings his knees to his chin, and thinks.

 

Normally, when his dreams got that bad, he’d drink. Nightmares necessitated straight vodka, kept in a water bottle under the bed in his apartment. When he was younger, he’d often give up on sleep altogether and head out into the city to score something that would make his brain shut up.  Hurtling through the void of space, this isn’t exactly an option. He didn’t bring alcohol with him in the rucksack he tossed in the corner, which in hindsight was not a great plan.

 

He’d wander, but he’s goddamn terrified of running into Peter. Juno buries his face in his hands.

 

Peter didn’t look him in the eye, not since sliding off the Ruby Seven and striding into the belly of the spaceship. Juno, still coughing, had no chance to say anything, no chance to apologize or beg to be forgiven.

 

Buddy had fixed him with an odd stare. “You’ve met Anais Lim,” she stated.

 

“Um. Yes,” Juno said, unwilling to elaborate.

 

Buddy merely raised a well-sculpted eyebrow before enlisting Jet to show them around the ship.

 

A braver lady than Juno would go now. Knock on Peter’s door, hold his breath to see if Peter could ever forgive him. A treacherous part of his brain thinks about falling into bed with the thief. Juno shakes himself. More likely, Peter would never speak a non-essential word to him again.

 

But Juno’s not brave. Reckless? Idealistic? Definitely. But he doesn’t think he’s ever really been brave. So he stays huddled in his bed, and tries not to think of master thieves with sharp teeth and long fingers.

 

Juno nearly falls off the bed when he hears loud footsteps running past his door. Another set of footsteps – lighter, more measured – follows. Juno is good at understanding footsteps - being able to tell where his ma was in the apartment meant the difference between a beating and a quick escape.

 

In a few strides, Juno has wrenched open the door to his quarters. The hallway is dark, lit only by a thin runner of light near the floor. In the darkness, he can see Buddy’s cloud of red hair. Blinking as his eyes adjust, Juno steps out into the hall and suddenly sees the issue. Vespa is huddled against the far wall of the hallway, no exits in sight except the one Buddy is blocking. Vespa’s green hair is stringy against her face, and she’s breathing hard.

 

“No! You can’t make me!” she yells in her raspy way.

 

“Vespa, darling, it was just a nightmare,” Buddy says smoothly, arms outstretched.

 

“You’re not real! This is not real! Get out of my head,” Vespa screams.

 

“Vespa,” Buddy begins, but another voice cuts her off.

 

“Breathe, Vespa,” a familiar voice says quietly. “It’s Anais. You’re all right. You are on the ship, and we’re far from Balder. You escaped from the people who hurt you. I want you to breathe.”

 

Vespa takes a shaky breath. “I can still see them, Anais,” she says.

 

“I know, Vespa.” Nureyev creeps out of the shadows and takes her hand. Vespa chokes on a sob.

 

Buddy reaches out and touches Vespa’s face. Wipes away a tear. “I love you, darling, and it’s going to be all right,” she says.

 

Vespa nods, and Buddy gathers her into an embrace. They move, slowly, back down the corridor towards their quarters with their arms around each other. Juno is left staring at Peter Nureyev in the half-light. Nureyev is staring back, eyes wide. Juno is suddenly very aware of his own shirtlessness.

 

Then Juno, because he is a coward, breaks eye contact and flicks his eyes to the floor. Neither say anything for a long moment.

 

“Goodnight, Juno,” Nureyev says tightly. Juno does not risk looking up until he hears a door shut.

 

A goddamn coward. Juno feels like crying as he sits on the floor of his quarters and stares at the wall until the hall lights click on to signify daytime.

 

Then, because he has to, he gets up and walks down to the bathroom carrying his toothbrush, razor, and soap in his hand. Someone is already in one of the two shower cubicles, so Juno brushes his teeth and studies his reflection in the fogging mirror.

 

He looks like hell. Dark circles under his eyes, at least three days’ worth of scruff on his face – why hadn’t he thought to shave before leaving? Before starting a new job? _Nice going, Steel,_ he thinks. So he washes his face, lathers up, and starts pulling the safety razor against his skin.

 

As he does it, Juno resolutely does not think about letting the blade slip. There is a reason, spelled out in a scar under his chin, that he uses a safety razor now.

 

Juno’s resolve falters when the water shuts off. A long arm reaches for the towel hung on the hook beside the cubicle, and then a dripping Nureyev steps out of the shower with a towel around his waist.

 

“Good morning,” Nureyev says.

 

Juno is so caught up in staring at Nureyev’s reflection in the mirror that his hand slips and the razor catches on his chin. “Goddamnit,” he says absently.

 

“All right, detective?” Nureyev walks to the sink, opens the bathroom cabinet, and pulls out several jars of face cream and serums.

 

“Uh, yeah, just, just my hand slipped,” Juno mumbles. Like a coward.

 

“Ah. Well, be careful,” Peter says, and turns back to his skincare.

 

Juno watches a few drops of his blood spatter the metal sink. The silence is stretching long and awkward. He draws up some courage, and says lowly, “What is your name here?”

 

“Anais Lim,” Peter says after a second. There is something unreadable in his eyes.

 

“All right,” Juno says hoarsely. Nureyev stalks past him, disappearing into the corridor.

 

Juno can’t stop fucking this up. He finishes shaving and grips the sink hard so he can pretend his hands aren’t shaking.

 

In the kitchen fifteen minutes later, Nureyev won’t look at him. The crime crew, as Rita has been calling them, is arranged around a table that folds down from the wall. Buddy and Vespa are tangled in each other, talking quietly to one another as Buddy smooths Vespa’s hair out of her face. The tenderness makes Juno’s jaw ache, and he looks away. Jet has a flowery apron on, and he’s flipping pancakes while Rita makes coffee.

 

“Thanks, Rita,” he murmurs as she pours him a cup. He’s not sure what it is, but Rita makes better coffee than anyone else. He’s glad to see this remains true in space.

 

“You’re welcome, boss!” Rita chirps.

 

“You shouldn’t call me boss, you know?” Juno takes a long drag of caffeine. “I’m the sidekick now.”

 

“But bo-oo-osss,” Rita says, “I hate calling you by your name, you know that. I been calling you boss for years, I ain’t quitting now!”

 

Juno shrugs. “Up to you, I guess,” he says. His eyes flick over to Nureyev, who is suddenly very absorbed in the book in his hands.

 

Once they’ve all been served coffee and pancakes, Buddy calls the crew to order. Jet folds up his apron and joins them, pouring sugar into his coffee.

 

“Good morning, everyone. Juno, Rita, welcome to the morning meeting. When we’re docked or otherwise engaged in a job, you’re expected to be at breakfast by 0700 so we can go over the plan for the day.” Buddy pauses to drink some coffee. “Today, we are traveling to Chyron Seven to follow a lead on the Venusian trafficking ring that we plan to take down. We ought to arrive in eight days, as long as the autopilot doesn’t break down again. Jet, Anais, we’ll meet this evening to begin planning our infiltration. Rita, Juno – Vespa is going to conduct a medical exam to determine what vaccinations you’ll need for our travel to the Outer Rim, and to gather your health history. We try to run operations as safely as possible, but if someone is hurt we need to be able to move quickly rather than wait around to hack into Hyperion City hospital records.”

 

Vespa nods. “Rita, you’ll go first, right after we’re all done with breakfast.”

 

“All right, Miss Ai!” Rita chirps. “All I got to talk about is my asthma, but it oughta be better in space away from the Martian pollution!”

 

In Rita’s voice, “my asthma” sounds like “Miasma,” and both Juno and Nureyev flinch. Juno clears his throat.

 

“Just call me Vespa, okay Rita?” Vespa says more gently than Juno had heard her speak before.

 

“Let’s hold off on medical discussions,” Buddy says, raising a hand to forestall Rita’s chatter. “Do you have any questions?”

 

Juno wordlessly shakes his head. Rita shrugs, and bounces up out of her chair. “Miss Vespa, you ready to go to the medbay?”

 

Vespa smiles tightly. “Sure.”

 

“Juno, Anais, would you mind washing up from breakfast?” Buddy orders politely. Juno swears he sees a damn twinkle in her eye as she sweeps out of the room towards the bridge.

 

“I can do it,” Juno says quickly.

 

“Nonsense, Juno. We’ll split the work,” he says, standing stiffly. “Wash or dry?”

 

“I’ll wash,” Juno says hesitantly, rolling up his sleeves.

 

With the water as hot as it would go, Juno begins scrubbing plates and handing them over to Nureyev. The water iss scalding his skin, but it makes it easier for him to think. A little pain often cuts through the mess in his head.

 

He has to apologize to Peter. He has to. So he screws up his courage and he begins to say – “Peter, I’m – “

 

“I’m sorry,” Nureyev says, looking down at his hands.

 

Juno drops a plate. “Fuck, sorry, let me – “ Juno scrambles to pick up the pieces. “Fuck!” Juno slices open his hand on a shard of plate.

 

“Juno, you need to be careful,” Peter tuts. “Give me your hand?”

 

Peter’s hands are so smooth on Juno’s callused palm. Peter pulls a bandage out of one of his endless pockets and in a few minutes Juno’s hand is well-bandaged.

 

“Thank you,” Juno says, and then “Can we talk?” It’s an honest question.

 

“I –“ Nureyev drops heavily into a chair. “Okay.”  

 

“I left you that night because I thought that I didn’t deserve you,” Juno said. “I thought you’d get bored of me. You said you’d fallen in love with me, and I couldn’t put you through the kind of hurt I cause people who love me. I’m a curse, Nureyev. I break the things I love. But I’m trying to get better. I’m so sorry for what I did to you.”

 

Juno stands still, braced for a blow, as Nureyev stands and walks over to him. Nureyev opens his mouth to say something when he’s cut off.

 

Rita barges in, and announces “Mistah Steel! Miss Vespa is ready for your checkup! I know ya don’t like doctors, but Miss Vespa’s real nice and considerate and stuff. You’ll be fine. Hi Mistah Anais Rex Lim Glass, how are ya? Real nice to see ya here, wasn’t expecting it yanno?”

 

Juno tries to pull himself back together. His voice cracks as he says “Yeah, Rita, I’ll head over there now.” So he turns and leaves the mess without looking back at Nureyev because he is still a coward.

 

The medbay is small. Juno suspects it was originally supposed to be another room for a crew member. Vespa is sitting at the desk, watching something in a test tube change color.

 

“Hey, Steel,” Vespa says without turning around.

 

“Hi,” Juno says.

 

“Take a seat on the bed,” Vespa instructs. “Shoes off.”

 

Juno can’t keep his mouth shut, of course. “That’s awfully forward, don’t you think? Not sure Buddy would approve – “ He’s cut off by a medical gown hitting him in the face.

 

“So, Steel, let’s talk about your medical history. I’m assuming you were vaccinated for basic Martian illnesses as a child?”

 

“Ah, no,” Juno says. “I’m immune to scrub fever, crowpox, and howler cough since I got them as a kid.”

 

Vespa merely nods and makes a note. “I need a list of broken bones and when you broke them.”

 

Juno rolls his eyes and launches into the list. “Well, get ready, because I’ve broken most things. Left hand, age five. Spiral break of the left leg, age seven. Nose, age seven. Collarbone fracture, age ten. Right wrist, age eleven. Nose, again, at eleven –“

 

Vespa cuts him off, staring intently at him. Juno wants to go hide. “What,” Vespa says slowly, “happened?”

 

Juno looks up at the ceiling. “My mother, mostly,” he says dully. He does not elaborate.

 

After a few moments of silence, he glances down to Vespa. Vespa is staring at him, and he feels small. One tear rolls down her cheek, and Vespa furiously wipes it away. Juno has no idea why. He can’t handle this. He and Vespa don’t even know each other. She stabbed him a few months ago, for fuck’s sake.

 

Juno clears his throat. “I, uh, I can have Rita hack into the Hyperion hospital system and send you my medical records, if, uh, that would be easier,” he says weakly. “Should I, uh, go?”

 

Vespa seems to come back to herself. “No, no, it’s fine – I, uh, I went somewhere. I’m fine. It’s fine. There’s a list of questions. Let’s just go through the list of questions.”

 

They sit there in silence for a few long moments, not looking at each other.

 

“Do you have any chronic medical conditions?” Vespa eventually asks without looking at him.

 

“Asthma. Most people who grew up in Hyperion City have it.”

 

“Do you have an inhaler?” Vespa asks.

 

“Yeah,” Juno says, pulling the little red tube out of his pants pocket.

 

Are you injured right now?”

 

“No, uh, I was injured a couple of months ago – not sure if you heard about the Newtown thing, the Theia Souls – but I should be fixed up now.”

 

“Any history of drug or alcohol abuse?”

 

Juno laughs without humor, tucking his inhaler away. “I was addicted to Solatium from around age fifteen until my thirtieth birthday,” he says. He’s proud that he can admit that now. “Tried lots of other stuff, but nothing stuck like Sola. Spent a month in Rita’s apartment detoxing and never tried it again.”

 

Vespa nods but doesn’t look at him. “Alcohol?”

 

“Well, yeah,” he says.

 

“How much?”

 

He doesn’t respond.

 

“You know we don’t have any alcohol aboard, right?” Vespa says, fixing him with a flat stare. Juno did not know that. “Do I need to watch you for withdrawal?”

 

“Probably not,” he says quietly.

 

“Well, come find me if you start hallucinating or vomiting,” she says, mouth twisted.

 

“Will do. What else do you need to know?” Juno desperately wishes for this to be over.

 

“Nothing, for now,” Vespa says suddenly, standing up. She leaves without another word. The door shuts loudly behind her, and Juno resists the urge to flinch.

 

After that ordeal, Juno is so lost in thought that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he pushes his door open and finds Nureyev sitting, spine straight, on his bed.

 

“Holy shit, Nureyev,” Juno swears. “Warn a lady next time.”

 

“Hello, detective,” Nureyev says simply. “You owe me the rest of a conversation.” He pats the bed next to him.

 

Peter is right. It’s now or never. So Juno sits down and lets the words pour out of him. “Nureyev, I completely understand if you never want to talk to me again. I hurt you when I should have just talked to you. I just – we need to be able to work together, right? So anything you need to make that easier – just, just tell me, and I’ll do it. You can hit me, or whatever you want – if it would help,” he takes a deep breath, “I’ll leave the ship and go back to Mars.”

  
“I’m not going to hit you, Juno,” Peter says tiredly. “I just I want to say something to you and I want you to listen and not interrupt. Can you do that?”

 

Juno nods, confused.

 

“First, I’m sorry too,” Nureyev says. “I should never have given you an ultimatum like that. It didn’t have to be leaving with me or never seeing me again. I shouldn’t have made you make that choice, especially after weeks of torture. You hurt me and I hurt you.”  

 

“Well, I think that what I did was objectively worse,” Juno begins, but Peter cuts him off.

 

“Hush,” Peter says, laying a hand on Juno’s shoulder. “Let me finish. You tried to sacrifice yourself in that Martian tomb. At the time I – I just wanted to believe it was an outlier, something you didn’t want to do. But for the last year I’ve been going over and over what you said about the Martian suicide, and I think – I think you wanted to die there. And I just – I want to hear what you have to say about that,” he finishes lamely.

 

“I – “ Juno casts around for the words. “Yeah. I’ve not really, well, wanted to be, uh, alive, for a long time. I throw myself into danger. A lot. You know about my mother and my brother, and I know that’s not an excuse, but.“ He stops to take a breath like Rita taught him, in through the nose and out through the mouth. “I had a cybernetic eye this year, and it’s a long story, but I met Jet and Buddy getting it removed. And during the operation, I understood some things about my life, and how I can, well, move forward?” Juno hates that it’s a question, but it is. “I’m working on myself, for the first time since I quit taking drugs, and I feel… better. I don’t want to throw my life away. Not anymore.” He takes another deep breath. “I walked out on you, and I can’t undo that, but I can try to make up for it.”

 

Nureyev takes his unbandaged hand. “Juno,” he says softly, and Juno still cannot stand the tenderness in his voice. “Juno, it’s okay. I… I forgive you.”

 

“Thank you,” Juno says quietly. In the smallest voice, Juno says “So what now?”

 

“Now, we talk about what we want and how each of us fit into that,” Nureyev says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He leans in, and Juno wants to kiss him. “What do you want, Juno?”

 

“I want you,” Juno whispers, “but I don’t deserve you.”

 

Nureyev’s smile spreads across his face, revealing his teeth, and Juno is more in love than he's ever been. “I do hope I can disabuse you of that notion,” he says before leaning forward and kissing Juno hard.

 


End file.
